


I Know I'm Not Right, But I'd Rather Be Wrong

by CheekyBrunette



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2220132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyBrunette/pseuds/CheekyBrunette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scared, exhausted, starving Niall attempts to eat a cheeseburger while battling with anorexia. <i>Drabble</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know I'm Not Right, But I'd Rather Be Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a short little tidbit to help relieve some of my stress and get me back into writing! Sorry if you expected more out of this! If you guys are interested, I might think about writing something a bit longer.

Niall's hands wracked around the cheeseburger he had been given. He didn't know if it was because he was scared or if it was because he was so hungry, but he couldn't stop _shaking_. This was easier when he had healthier options. Things like salads, and chicken, and fruit all seemed to go down with less of a fight, but _this?_ This was red meat, and white starch, and – _fuck_ \- cheese.

Niall didn't even know if he could still digest cheese.

To eat this burger would just be asking for a stomachache; he knew that much. Niall had spent one too many nights curled up on his bunk, struggling not to move or breathe after eating meals just like this one. Having a cheeseburger would only lead to pain, and none of the other boys seemed to understand that. They just kept pushing.

" _You need_ something _, Niall."_

It wasn't fair. Niall knew he needed something, the clawing feeling on the inside of his stomach practically _screamed_ just that at him every second of every day. He was trying to eat; he just couldn't.

" _I miss how you_ used _to eat."_

Niall missed how he used to eat, too. It was so much easier and way less stressful, but that was what got him fat in the first place. He couldn't go back.

" _I don't understand why you won't just do it; you're so small… God, when did you get so small?"_

He didn't know why he couldn't just eat. He didn't know how something so easy for everyone else had become so difficult for him. All he knew was that, now, whenever he thought about having something to eat –easy things like multigrain toast or carrot sticks- he wanted to break down crying. It felt like he was having too much, when his brain knew he was having way too little. His head was a battleground of needing to survive and needing to be thin. Even looking at his body was conflicting. How could his face look so gaunt but his stomach look so protruding? How could he be getting thinner when he could feel his fat bubbling outwards with every bite?

" _Please, Ni._ Please _. You're scaring me."_

How dare they complain about being scared? Niall was the one watching the scale go down. Niall was the one whose bones ached, whose fingers quaked; who couldn't eat without it feeling like someone had stuffed him full of wooden blocks, the edges digging into the lining of his stomach. It was so, _so_ scary. And no one else had to fucking deal with it, just him.

Niall was the one who went to bed crying every night. He had heard the war stories about anorexia. He had heard about girls who got so weak, they couldn't lift their heads off their pillows. He had seen what people could do to themselves. Niall had pictures saved in his phone of people whose bones stuck so far out; you could count them without batting an eyelash.

He called it "thinsporation", despite how much it terrified him and the other lads.

Niall put the cheeseburger down, a wave of nausea rolling over him. He watched Zayn, Harry, Louis, and Liam devour their own food, trying not to feel jealous as he sifted through his french-fries. Niall only liked eating the tiny ones. He ate at least twelve fries before it stopped being mindless and he started feeling guilty. Niall pushed his food across the table in a huff.

"I'm going to my room," he said before getting up from the table.

He was tired of meals ending like this.


End file.
